


Forgiveness

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Post-Sirius in Azkaban, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning delivery brings back the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

He had finished up his gardening when the mail came. He sat on one of the front steps, watching as the bird circled gracefully downward. Landing at his side, he let go of his bundle of mail, giving Sirius a short hoot in greeting.

Sirius smiled. The messenger had become a regular, and he gave it the small treat that he'd saved for it from breakfast. "Thank you, Emri." 

With a rustle of wings, it took off, leaving Sirius as he sorted items according to person. Harry tended to get the most letters usually -- his godfather was pretty sure that most of them were of the admiring, propositioning kind; at least he tended to smile while reading them -- while he and Remus were generally favoured with bills and such-like exciting things. Finally, Sirius put everything aside to glance at the articles in the **Daily Prophet.**

He was interrupted by the sound of more wings. This time, it was a proud official-looking owl. It didn't bother to greet him, simply laid down its delivery and flew away. This time, it was a package, similarly official-looking and addressed to him.

With some trepidation, Sirius broke the seal and slid out a sheet. His face paled as he read. As the sole surviving child (and with the clearing of his name in previously alleged crimes), he had gained full rights to his deceased parents' property and lands. 

For a long while, he stared at the letter. Its factual, curt tone left a cold feeling and reminded him of the letters a few of his relatives had sent him when he'd moved here.

At first, he'd been pleasantly surprised at their arrival, but the messages themselves had changed that. In their eyes, he was still guilty and the pardoning had only inflamed them the more. His lover had not been spared either, the old disgust of him being with a werewolf making Sirius' blood boil anew. Hurtful as was to read about himself, he'd rather be castigated than see Remus attacked.

He'd destroyed those before Remus could see them. But this would not be as easy.

Sirius peered inside the envelope and carefully pulled out the contents. The transfer deed for the house, jewelry, photographs. All neatly sealed and neatly labeled to indicate what each was. His parents' lives reduced to this. 

Staring at them in thought, he heard the footsteps of his lover just as they reached him. He looked up to see Remus, hair outlined gold by the sun, the brightness keeping his expression hidden. When Remus bent to kiss the top of his head. Sirius tilted his face to position that month over his. Hands reached upward to bring his lover down to him, a desperate kiss building. 

Remus let it continue, shifting to sit beside him, arms coming round his shoulders and clasping him.

"Moony..." he breathed when their lips parted. He kissed him again, lightly, following Remus' eyes as they drifted downward. 

"What's this?" he asked.

Sirius swallowed and broke their embrace. He fingered the packets, trailing from one to another, finally plucking up the explanatory letter. "I got this in this morning's delivery," he said, handing it over. He watched Remus' expression grow grim and sad. 

"Your house," he said under his breath. He faced him suddenly. "Do you intend to go see it?"

He touched the papers again. "I don't know. Do you want to?"

"...I don't know either, Paddy. It's been so long." Remus looked away to stare at their yard, bright and full of colour. "It was as beautiful as this before."

Sirius studied the garden as well. Yes, he remembered. His mother's hand could be seen in every corner, as plants and flowers grew. She'd loved the light... He blinked out of his reverie. "What do you mean, 'before'?"

Remus avoided looking at him. 

"Remus?" 

A slight shake of his lover's head.

Fear rose within him. "Remus, what happened?"

A pause. Then he spoke, quietly. "I went to see it one time, about a year after... after I heard about their deaths. I wanted to see your home again."

"But what happened?" Sirius demanded. "Tell me!"

Remus kept his profile to him, talking to the air rather than him. "It had been vandalised, so badly. I could scarce recognise it."

Sirius covered his mouth. He shook his head, shutting his eyes but he could still imagine the picture. "Everything?" he finally croaked.

Remus' voice came as if from a distance, a low murmur. "I didn't stay; I couldn't see any more."

"Oh, God." Anything else was difficult, his throat wanting to close up. He began rocking back and forth in grief. His voice was a hoarse rasp. "Why did they do that to them? They didn't do anything. They didn't --" 

Remus gripped him tight, spoke insistently in his ear. "They did not know, Sirius, they never saw it --" 

'I did this to them.' The thought repeated in Sirius' mind. 'I did this.'

He forced himself to pull away, feeling the spiral of emotion building in him. Hands wrung together for a moment, tugged at his hair, before he grabbed the shovel and started slamming it against the wall, into the ground. The empty clangs rang through the air. And his cry of grief and anger and helplessness.

Remus stood on the steps above him, lips pressed together. 

Only the clatter of Harry running down the stairs caused Sirius to freeze, to open his hands to drop the shovel. His harsh breathing dominated the sudden silence as Harry appeared, wand in hand. Green eyes swept over them.

"What is it?" He looked at the package's contents, now scattered over the walk. 

Sirius wet his lips, unable to speak for a moment. "I... I've just been given right to my family's house. What's left of it." With stumbling steps, he landed back on the step with a thump. "How could they?" he whispered, more to himself. 

Remus said nothing, simply moved to hold him again. Over Sirius' shoulder, he saw Harry looking at them with a worn, sorrowed expression. He may not have known the details, but he'd certainly understood the substance.

His face buried against Remus' chest, Sirius gripped the folds of his lover's robe with both hands, reaching for the warmth, the familiarity. 

God, but he was so tired. Would the suffering never end?

Another pair of hands touched him, resting on his shoulders. Lifting up reddened eyes, he met Harry's gaze. "I'm sorry," Sirius said, not quite sure why he was apologising.

Harry shook his head gently. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Without saying a word, he hugged him for a long moment before returning inside, leaving them alone.

Sirius listened to his steps echoing on the wood floor, fading away. He laid his head on Remus' shoulder. He felt spent, exhausted. "Remus?" he said at last, "... is there anything else?"

Remus eyed the fallen items. His gentle voice was hesitant. "I don't know what your parents felt. I was terrified that they would scorn me and drive me away. I never dared visit. Until afterwards."

They continued staring at the Blacks' possessions. "I'm afraid, too, Remus," Sirius admitted. 

The photographs, was he still in them? Or had he been magically removed? What had his parents thought in the end? Would he ever know?

But slowly, his hand reached out, hovered in the air, and began gathering.

Holding them briefly against his chest, he put the packets back in his lap, taking up the one on top, breaking its seal. Two gold rings fell onto his land. They sparkled in the sunlight.

"Oh, Remus." His gaze lingered over the wedding bands. An image flashed -- of this very ring shining from his father's hand, the only jewelry he wore. For so long these rings had encircled his parents' fingers, showing the world their relationship and devotion. 

Raising his hand, Sirius pressed the metal against his cheek, feeling the sting of the cold gold. This was as close as he had come to touching his parents in all this time.

His mouth clenched tightly, he lowered the rings, fist clenched round them, hiding them from view. Not daring to see them again, he tipped them back into the packet and folded the cover over. He picked up the other one.

The black ink glimmered in the strong sunlight: 'Photographs.' Sirius stared at the writing, then turned to his lover. Their eyes met. A long minute passed until Remus took it. The silence surrounding them was deafening; Sirius' focus was only on those pale hands, and the spilling of the photographs over the lap of that green robe, and the picking up of the topmost picture -- and the sudden smile that came briefly to Remus' somber features. 

"It's you," he said, and Sirius looked down to see himself as an infant, barely of an age to crawl. He was on his yellow blanket, and he managed to sidle several inches before stopping, blue eyes looking vaguely about him. Like a small bag of grain, he slowly toppled over onto the blanket to rest on his back. Plump legs kicked the air furiously.

Remus and Sirius looked. At the next picture, and the next, and the next...

His parents at one of their anniversary celebrations; his sister playing with the family cat; in her formal "company" clothes at her last birthday party; he and Remus eating dinner at the house; his six-year-old self asleep at the kitchen table, spent after a long day; his father sitting in his chair, reading...

So many more scenes and he couldn't bear anymore. His vision blurred.

He sat silently, eyes closed. Even so, the tears ran down his face. 

"Sirius." A kiss at his forehead, and soft lips moving against his skin. A determined whisper, as if Remus were saying an incantation into his very soul. "You must believe that they loved you, even as I did, in spite of everything. You must believe they knew the truth, somehow. Don't let them be shut away..."

He heard the words, knew they were meant to give comfort, but his heart ached still.

He would never see them again.


End file.
